


No Glory in the West

by leorizanzel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Casual Cowboy Friday, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Horse Girl Luke Skywalker, Inaccurate Catholicism, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, This is probably just an excuse to use my history degree and talk about historic weapons tbh, also everyone deserves a nice cowboy hat so why not, liberal use of Spanish vocabulary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-20 16:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leorizanzel/pseuds/leorizanzel
Summary: Texas, 1870 - Din Djarin, a bounty hunter with a mysterious past and the quickest draw this side of the Mississippi, finds a new gig escorting a strange young man to his destination.Inspired by Casual Cowboy Friday and my love for the American West as a whole.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 77
Kudos: 114





	1. ...And the Baths of All the Western Stars Until I Die

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Orville Peck song of the same name, and the chapter title comes from "Ulysses" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta @serotoninja on Tumblr!

_Bexar County, Texas – September 1870, five years since the end of the American Civil War_

The fire spat and crackled as Din Djarin threw yet another small log into the crumbling pile, the smell of burning cedarwood filling his nostrils. Perhaps he could’ve taken a small bit of his savings and spent the night at an inn, but then he wouldn’t be resting underneath a blanket of stars that seemed to go on for eternity and relishing the gentle Texas breeze that rustled his dark curls. No bed, no roof ever compared to the nights when he would fall asleep to the gentle lights of faraway worlds and the sounds of crickets singing in the grass.

Razor knickered softly, stirring Din out of his silent reverie. “Hey, girl. ‘m sorry for forgetting. Will you forgive me?” he asked as he reached into his small knapsack and pulled out a perfectly round, bright red apple. Before he could reach up and offer the fruit to the horse, Razor took the entire apple out of his hand; it was gone in seconds. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He sighed deeply as Razor moved back to her original place at the stake where he’d tied her up just a little bit before starting the fire and setting up camp. Din couldn’t help but admit a small bit of affection for the mare. He wondered just how many miles they stomped across the prairies together. He wondered just how many more miles she had left in her before he had to say goodbye – he hoped that he would know when she got tired enough so he could take her to a nice pasture and let her live out her days.

Nights like this – with the waxing moon casting an eerie light over the hills and waving grass – put him on edge. He could see out for miles, but so could anyone or anything else. It was a nightly ritual, checking and cleaning every single weapon in his arsenal, but the feeling of unease made him double and triple check every function until he felt satisfied. Din prayed the small hillside he chose for the campsite provided the cover he needed. Dawn was only a few hours away.

Din stretched out on his camp roll and tilted his Stetson over his face before tightening the poncho around his broad frame. He thought about all the things he had to do tomorrow once he made it into San Antonio proper, but fatigue pulled him out of his own mind and pushed him into sleep.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Hey, _vaquero_! Rise and shine!”

Din woke to a not-so-gentle poke to the ribs on his left side and the smell of an extinguished fire. Slowly reaching up with his left hand, he pulled his hat down past his eyes and over his face.

Well, at least someone waited until dawn to wake me up, Din thought as his eyes narrowed at the man that stood over him. He briefly wondered where the hell this person came from, but he knew his mind wasn’t at the capacity to worry about such things at that very moment.

“I certainly hate to interrupt your dreams, but I was riding by and saw that beautiful horse you’ve got there,” the young man said as he stood over Din. He looked young, maybe just shy of nineteen. “She’s pretty big for a quarter horse, but I’m sure she’ll ride just fine. How much you want for her?”

“Not for sale,” Din grumbled as he pulled his hat back over his face. “And I’m not a cowboy, _gringo_. Take your business elsewhere.”

He heard the young man scoff and make some sort of shuffling noise. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise; in response, he moved his other hand to the Colt Army pistol on his right holster. Slowly pulling it free from its leather hold, Din sat the pistol’s grip on his thigh with the barrel pointed up at where he guessed the young man stood. He didn’t know what the kid planned, and he didn’t want to find out.

“What’s to say I don’t just take the horse, then?”

A slow, mechanical click rang through the morning air.

“If you value your legs, you’ll leave now,” Din replied. “Horse theft’s a felony in Texas, kid. You think anyone’s gonna cry if I bring you in with a .44 caliber hole in the knee?”

“Fuck you, man,” the young man whimpered. “I was just joking. It wasn’t that serious.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask,” Din spat. “You got five seconds before the sun hits something it shouldn’t hit.”

A stifled cry and a shuffle of feet told Din that the threat worked. He heard a different set of hooves – far too light to belong to Razor – take off at a significant gait, and once they receded in the distance, Din finally sat up off his roll.

He groaned as he stretched his limbs out from underneath his poncho and felt several joints pop from the strain. As he sat up, he took in his surroundings – Razor still on her lead, the fire nothing but glowing embers, and the sun coming up ever so slightly over the eastern horizon. Over a small hillcrest to the north, he spotted an isolated band of rain far off in the distance. He felt a slight chill in the late summer air; the brief weeks of autumn were soon upon them and he knew he didn’t have much in the way of warm clothing.

Yet another thing to spend money on, Din thought as he gathered himself and his things off the ground.

The morning’s excitement all but forgotten, Din fell into a steady routine of packing Razor up and destroying any significant evidence of his small campsite – a cautious measure he never regretted taking the time to perform. With the last of his things loaded, Din mounted Razor’s saddle and steered her west at an easy pace.

The sun at Din’s back warmed him through and hurried him on to his destination. He took a deep breath of the sharp, clean air and braced himself for the onslaught of noise and people that awaited him.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

San Antonio hadn’t changed much, Din thought as he walked through the town with Razor’s leads in his hand. It had been a few months since he’d been back in the city, and it was about as packed and busy as ever. Dust hovered in a steady cloud above the unpaved roads as people and horses milled about the streets, leaving everything in sight with an odd tan veneer. He pulled the bandana he wore around his neck up over his face to keep him from breathing in too much dust; he also appreciated the anonymity it gave him in the already too crowded city.

Turning down a side street, Din made his way through the thick crowds towards a small, nondescript saloon – he knew it would be the one place he could find the marshal during the day. He finally arrived at the red swinging doors and pushed his way inside, eyes squinting to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.

“Where’s the bodies, Mando?”

Din looked out above the heads of the crowded saloon to see Marshal Greef Karga sitting at his usual table alone. A hand went up to wave him over.

“Good to see you, too, Marshal,” Din shot back. He pulled the bandana off his face as he walked through the crowd.

Marshal Karga laughed as he gestured towards an empty chair across from his position. “Take a load off, Mando – I think you’ve earned a cold one.” The older man looked over at the bar and made some sort of hand sign to the bartender. “How’d the hunt go? And don’t skimp out on the details.”

Din shot him a withering look. “Have I ever been a storyteller, Marshal?”

“Fair enough,” Marshal Karga laughed. The barmaid arrived with a pint of whatever it was the bartender had on tap.

“Already turned in the bodies over to the marshal in Bell County,” Din said as he accepted the beer. “I hate putting too much weight on Razor; she’s strong, but carrying all those carcasses means we have to stop more. Money’s the same whether I collected it in Belton or here.”

Marshal Karga only laughed as he pulled an already rolled cigarette out of his front shirt pocket. “Well, if you’re looking for cash, I have a job that’s a little outside your normal parameters. Pays well, but it’s not what you’re used to doing.”

“Money’s money,” Din shrugged. “What’s the deal?”

“You have to keep someone alive,” Marshal Karga said. “It’s a part-bodyguard, part-trail guide mission. You get half the payment up front, get the other half when you deliver the person to their destination. It’s gotta be easier than what you’ve been doing.”

Din leaned back in his chair and folded his arms against his chest. “I suppose that’s not so bad. What’s the payout?”

“I’ll let him tell you himself,” Marshal Karga replied. “Hey, Mr. Skywalker! Over here!”

Din’s eyes shot over to the bar where a young man nearly dropped his beer in surprise. The wiry man didn’t look like much, but Din looked at his hands and knew this was a man used to hard work. To look at his face, however, showed nothing of the sort – the man’s large blue eyes belied a sort of innocence and youth that struck Din as almost too open and honest.

The young man hopped off his stool and carried his beer to the table, pulling out the empty seat in between Karga and Din. Din took in his overall appearance – a simple button-down cotton shirt and corduroy pants, nothing that spoke of any wealth – and wondered what kind of person could dress like that and be able to pay for his services.

“Marshal Karga, thank you so much for the introduction,” the young man said. He turned to Din and stuck out his hand. “Name’s Luke Skywalker, friend. I’m guessing you’re the man that Marshal Karga told me about – Din D-Jarin?”

Din took the man’s hand in his own. “The ‘D’ in Djarin is silent,” he replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s a real interesting name, sir. Where did it come from?” Luke asked.

Din fell silent for a beat. “Never asked, I suppose. What kind of name is ‘Skywalker’?”

“Never asked,” Luke shot back with a smirk.

Marshal Karga shot a look between the two men. “Well, I guess you two are already on a good foot. I’ll go ahead and let y’all be, but you should stop by the station and let me know you’re heading out.” He gave them both a polite nod as he rose from the table and headed towards the door.

Luke shot him a small salute and turned his attention back to Din. “The marshal tells me you’re the best of the best out here, and I’m excited to get going on this ride. I’m trying to head out to a small town out in west Texas for a new position, and there’s no way I wanted to try and make the journey on my own. This is my first time in Texas and I’m sure I’d get lost once I stepped foot out of San Antonio. I’m offering $1000 now and $1000 when we get there – does that sound fair to you?”

Din just blinked at the man in surprise. Two thousand dollars didn’t seem like much compared to the bounties he pulled in before coming back to town, but for something as low effort as heading to the other side of the state, it would be about the easiest payday he’d had in a long time.

“What kind of job do you have waiting for you that lets a man drop that kind of cash out of the blue?”

“I’m an engineer,” Luke explained. “I’m heading out to a town that’s looking at a major oil boom and they want to expand their infrastructure – bridges, roads, you name it. Did you ask because you’re curious, or if I’m good for the money?”

“Maybe a little of both, I guess,” Din shrugged. “Can’t blame me for being a little curious.”

“No, I suppose not.” Luke paused to take another draft of his beer. “I guess I’d be curious were I in your position, too. I promise it’s a real job. In fact, I’d be willing to let you hold onto this during the journey – consider it insurance, of a kind.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small chain that a heavy ring dangled from like a pendulum. “This is my West Point class ring – it’s one of the only valuable things I have, so I guess this would be the best thing to use.”

Din quickly reached out and shoved the necklace back into the younger man’s shirt, ignoring the brush of his fingers against the hard planes of his chest. “Will you put that away? Flashing shit like that will definitely get you robbed.”

If Din had looked close enough, he would’ve noticed the slightest hint of a flush across the apples of Luke’s cheeks. “Jeez, I’m sorry. See, I really do need a guide – I’m a little too trusting.”

“And how do you know you can trust me?”

“You just seem like a good man,” Luke said. “Most people would’ve just let me become a target, but you didn’t. I think that’s as good a judge of character as any.”

“So, were you trying to offer up your ring as insurance, or were you just trying to test my character?” Din narrowed his eyes, ever so slightly annoyed. It wasn’t unusual to have marks test him, but he never got such tests from clients.

“Maybe a little bit of both.” Luke’s smile somehow stretched even wider and the room brightened up just a bit.

Din could only huff out a small bit of a laugh at that.

“So, are you in, Mr. Djarin?”

“Hard to say no to easy money,” Din said, “but for that kind of cash, you should be able to take a stagecoach out that way. Why bother having me tag along?”

“I thought about that,” Luke replied, “but that was before I took a stagecoach here from St. Louis. I would much rather be on a horse for a year than to be in another box. My back hurts just thinking about it.”

Din hummed in response. “You ride much? It won’t be easy.”

“Sir, I was practically born on a horse,” Luke said with a grin. “I was trained by the best in all forms of horsemanship, and I served with the finest cavalrymen in the United States Army.”

Din raised an eyebrow at that. “A soldier, huh? Well, I guess saddle soreness won’t be a problem for you.”

Luke spat out a quick laugh at that. “You’re hilarious, mister.”

“So I’ve been told,” Din huffed. “I assume you’re going to have to buy a horse while you’re here.”

“You would be correct. Do you know of a good place to get a horse, by the way?” the younger man asked. “I’m sure I could find a place, but if a local makes the introduction…”

“Yeah, I know someone – you’d better mind yourself when you’re around her. She senses weakness, and she will absolutely try to pull one over on a city mouse like yourself,” Din warned.

“I’m sure if I have my country mouse cousin there, it won’t be so bad,” Luke replied. A wry grin split across his face as he took another swig of a beer that already seemed to lose its fizz.

Din shot him a sideways glance. “You haven’t met Peli Motto.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Peli Motto’s stables weren’t spectacular, nor did they offer a selection much different than any other in San Antonio, but if Din knew what was good for him, he’d continue to do business there for as long as he stayed in the city. Peli owned a temper bigger than her own small frame could carry at times, and would happily unload it on anyone who wanted to try and shoulder it.

“I’m still trying to buy that quarter horse back from you, Mando,” Peli yelled the moment Din and Luke entered the stables. “How much you want for her?”

“Not for sale,” Din grumbled. “Never has been, never will be.”

“You’re no fun!” Peli shouted back at him. “If you’re not here to sell me that horse, then what the hell do you want?”

“We’re here for this guy,” Din pointed towards Luke, who already had a hand out in greeting. Before Luke could reach Peli, Din put his hand on Luke’s bicep and pulled him aside.

“What are you – “

“Listen up if you want to get something out of this deal,” said Din, cutting him off. “You said you know about horses – this is the time to lay it on. Peli Motto will not sell a horse to just anyone, so be brief, be brilliant, and let’s be gone.”

Luke simply stared back into Din’s dark eyes and dumbly nodded in assent. The older man released his grip on Luke’s arm and nodded his head in Peli’s direction, silently willing him to introduce himself.

“Hello, there! Din tells me you’re the best person in town to ask about buying a horse,” Luke said with an easy smile on his face. “I’m Luke Skywalker, and I – “

“Yeah, whatever,” Peli shrugged. “What are you looking for? And if you say, ‘a nice one,’ I don’t care who you walked in with – you can turn around right now.”

Luke remained unperturbed and pressed on. “Do you have a Morgan, ma’am? They’re my favorite breed and I love their temperament. I haven’t been on one in five years or so, but I miss them dearly. I’m comfortable riding a horse of any height, but if you have one within fourteen hands, that would be perfect.”

The stable mistress’ entire demeanor shifted and she looked at him with a curious expression. “I think I may just have the horse you need,” she replied. “He’s a four-year-old stallion that loves to run and loves attention. If you can keep up with him, I’d be willing to sell him for a decent price.”

His eyes lit up as he reached out his hand. “Ma’am, I would be happy to look at your horse.”

Peli shook his hand – something that surprised Din entirely. He remembered having to demonstrate that he knew how to shoe a horse before she even let him back into the stables. Then again, that may have been a very successful attempt at free labor, he thought as he watched the two of them move out into one of the corrals.

“Look, isn’t he beautiful?” asked Peli as she called out to the horse currently roaming around the pen. The horse, a chestnut Morgan, trotted over to her outreached hand and buried his face in her palm. Peli stroked a hand through the horse’s mane and cooed at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Luke. “What do you think you’ll name him?”

“Red Five,” Luke replied, almost too quickly. “My first horse was Red, and I just named all my other horses after her. Therefore, Red Five.”

She snorted out a soft laugh. “Well, that’s as good a name as any, I suppose.”

Din continued to look on as Luke and Peli animatedly talked about everything horse, which eventually culminated in what looked to be some sort of sale of both a horse and the tack set for the journey ahead. At last, as the sun hovered low in the sky, it was time to leave the stables and wave their goodbyes to the mistress before finally – _finally_ – leaving back towards the main part of town. They’d agreed to meet up outside of Luke’s inn at first light, and using the rest of the evening for their own personal preparations prior to kicking off the first leg of the journey.

Din had one major stop before the night ended, and he simply couldn’t be late.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As the last rays of sun cut through buildings and windows in tow, Din arrived at a black door nestled in a corner of a corner in an alley that only someone who knew what they were looking for would find. He knocked five times and waited for an answer.

A small, muffled voice spoke from behind the door. “’Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying…’”

“’This is the way – walk in it’,” Din replied in rote memorization. Three locks clicked loose and the door swung open. A young girl of no more than ten years of age stood on the other side with a large smile on her face.

“Welcome back, sir. Mother Adelita’s been waiting for you,” the child said as she held the door open.

Din reached out a large hand and ruffled the girl’s hair, shutting the door behind him in the process. “Thank you, Rey. Go on and play; I’ll lock up the door for you.”

Rey reached out and grabbed his hand from her hair. “I promised Mother Adelita I’d take you straight to her office – she says you’ll get distracted by the other children and she won’t see you again until you come back from another job. Now, come on!” She tugged on his hand and pulled him through the foyer to take him down the hall.

“I know where her office is, _mija_ ,” Din laughed. “I think I’ll be alright.”

Rey only pulled harder on his arm. “But I _promised_. We waited this whole time! It felt like forever.”

Din bent down to sweep the young girl up into his arms and settle her small frame on his hip. “How about I take you to Adelita, instead?”

“I’m too big to get carried now, Mister,” Rey pouted as she snuggled into his arms. “I have responsibilities.”

Din held her a little tighter in his arms in response. “ _Mija_ , you’ll never be too big for me to pick you up. Now, let’s go see what Adelita wants.”

He walked softly down the hall with his bundle in tow until he reached the end of the path to the door on the left. Din thought about how much this door used to scare him as a child – he never ended up at the nun’s office for doing something right, after all. With some age and a drastic height change, the little world of the cloistered abbey felt incredibly odd and familiar all at once. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it swung open before he had the chance.

“Mr. Djarin, you may enter,” a calm, authoritative voice said from around the door jamb.

As he pushed his way inside, he spotted the woman that raised him from the time he was about Rey’s age and he couldn’t help but smile. Though he would remain slightly terrified of her for the rest of his life, he always looked to Mother Adelita as his own mother – she was the only sort of parent he’d ever known.

“Hello, Mother,” he said with a soft tone. “It’s been a while.”

“And I see you’ve brought a guest that should’ve brought you,” she replied with a raised eyebrow. “Rey, you’re just as bad as the younger children. Mr. Djarin is not a tree, and you cannot climb him whenever you wish.”

“It’s my fault, Mother,” Din sighed.

“You and orphans, I swear,” Adelita said, both exasperated and just a little wistful. “Rey, you may leave us now. I’d like to talk to Mr. Djarin alone.”

Din let the girl slip from his hold and gently let her down on the ground. She smiled up at him one last time before running back out of the door and off to who knew where.

“Please sit down,” Mother Adelita said as she waved towards a chair that sat in front of our desk. “How was your hunt, dear?”

Din reached into the small messenger bag draped across his chest and over his shoulder. He pulled out a ridiculously large stack of dollar bills bound with twine and placed it on her desk. “Successful. That should be about $5000, minus a few dollars I had to spend on some essentials.”

The abbess said nothing as she pulled the stack towards her and removed some bills off the top of the stack; she shuffled through them and pushed them back towards Din. “And this should be $500, _mijo_.”

Din shook his head. “Ma’am, that’s too much. Please, save it for the children.”

“You need the money for your travels – I won’t hear of a child of this abbey having to scrounge around for anything,” she sniffed in reply. “You’ve earned this much, at the very least. The money you’ve brought in will last the children for quite a while.”

He glanced at her hands – still rough with calluses from years of working as a blacksmith to support her order – and wondered just how hard she had to work before he took up his current career and started providing for the children. He’d work a lifetime to repay his debt to her.

“If you insist, ma’am,” he replied as he took the bills and stuffed them back into his bag. He’d hide them into different pockets and places later.

“Of course, I do. Are you heading out on another hunt, soon?” Her world-weary eyes settled on him and it made him feel like he was ten years old again, sitting in the very chair he would receive his penitence for getting into yet another fight.

“Not a hunt, Mother – a trail guide mission. I stand to bring back another couple thousand for the orphans once I return,” he said.

Adelita hummed. “It’s not worth as much as your other missions, but I cannot fault you for taking the task. Guiding the lost is as much a part of the Way as hunting the wicked.”

Din could only nod in response. “I leave tomorrow morning at first light.”

“Then we’ll put on something good for dinner tonight – I think everyone’s earned it,” Adelita said. “You may stay here for the night; ask Brother Vizsla for some bedding. Go take a bath, too – I won’t let you sit at the table unless you’re clean.”

He only gave her another soft smile as he picked himself off the chair and out to the rest of the abbey. Before he knew it, a swarm of children nearly bowled Din’s solid frame right off his feet and on his back. Laughs and excited squeals filled the air as he steadied himself and greeted every child he could.

No place ever quite felt like home for Din Djarin – he never felt like he deserved one – but he took whatever home he could find and made it his own, even for just a short while.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The next morning, Din arrived just a few minutes before the appointed time and place and watched the sun peek out over the tops of the downtown landmarks. He waited for only a few moments before he spotted his charge coming around the corner with his own steed’s reins in his hands. Sunlight caught Luke’s blonde hair just so and cast a nearly divine glow around him, dampened only by his black Stetson.

“You ready, Skywalker?” Din asked as he checked Razor’s saddle straps and looked for any tears in the leather in the leads. “Now’s the time to ask – there aren’t too many stops between here and the next big town.”

Luke strolled up to Din’s side with Red’s saddle already strapped down. “We’re ready to go whenever you are, mister.”

A small glint of light caught Din’s eye. “Did you buy new boots?”

“I did – my old ones were getting too worn out and I figured starting a new journey with a new pair of boots maybe meant good luck,” Luke said, sticking out his feet to show off the dark brown patina. “Got ‘em on sale, too.”

“You’re probably going to regret that,” Din scoffed. “Your feet will kill you for not breaking them in before we left.”

Luke shot a glare at him. “You may be the most critical person I’ve ever met, Mr. Djarin. Are you perhaps in league with my sister? She also hates every decision I make; I think the two of you would get along like a house on fire.”

“Well, if she’s the sort of woman that would avoid wearing new boots on a new journey, I suppose we’d get along famously,” Din shot back.

The younger man gaped at him. “Touché. I will ask that the two of you never meet – for my own sanity.”

Din let the slightest of smiles escape his lips as he lifted himself up on Razor. While astride the saddle, he took one last time to check his ammunition in his pouches, the functions on every weapon, and the integrity of all his holsters. He saved his 1866 Winchester rifle for last, finally placing it in the saddle scabbard that hung to his right. After one last test of the reins, Din felt like he could take on the open road – and whatever else he faced – yet again.

“Ready, cowboy?”

“Not a cowboy, Skywalker.”

“Fine. Can we get on the road, O Great Bounty Hunter, Din Djarin the Magnificent?”

Din said nothing as he reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a small, green apple. He tossed it past Red’s nose and watched it roll away on the ground. He also watched as Red tore away from Luke’s grasp and chased after the fruit.

“That is _not_ fair! Red, come back!”

After a few moments of trying to get Red to move after he finally got the apple from the ground and took his time eating it, Luke made his way back to Din. “I hope you enjoyed that.”

“Immensely. Let’s go, shall we? Daylight’s burning.”

The pair fell into companionable silence as they took off on the northwestern trail leading out of San Antonio towards Austin.


	2. And I Turn'd Away to Thee, Proud Evening Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the overwhelming response for the first chapter! I hope this chapter lives up to the hype. The chapter title is from Edgar Allan Poe's "Evening Star".
> 
> Warning for animal death, graphic depictions of violence, and war trauma. This fan fiction takes place during the Reformation Era, five years after the American Civil War; that means this story will occasionally touch on the scars that such a real, violent, brutal war caused. (Unlike the very cartoony violence of the Star Wars universe, of course.) If, for whatever reason, this subject matter upsets you in anyway, please take care of yourself first.

“I can shoot just fine.”

“Then you’re in charge of getting meat for dinner,” said Din as he started peeling a potato for the stew. “Jackrabbit will work just fine, but I’m not opposed to snake, if you can find it.”

The two men stopped for the night somewhere in between San Antonio and Austin, nestling their campsite into a small thicket of trees and off any significant trails going between the two cities. Austin wasn’t much further along, but both men agreed that giving the horses a rest would be more important than trying to push through all the way into town that night. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the prairie grass and cast long shadows through the grove as the pair worked on setting up camp for the night.

Luke shot him an incredulous look. “You mean to tell me you’ve eaten snakes?”

“Haven’t you?”

“No, but I have had fried frog legs when I was in New Orleans. Think there’s any frogs around here?” Luke asked.

Din paused to drop the freshly sliced potato in the boiling pot. “There ain’t, but even if there were frogs around here, I will _not_ allow you to put those things anywhere near this stew.”

“You’re willing to eat snakes, but frogs are where you draw the line?” Luke asked as he loaded a cartridge of bullets into his own Colt Army pistol. “That’s an interesting position.”

Din scoffed. “I don’t eat things that eat bugs. Now are we eating or not?” 

“Alright, alright – I’ll get you your damn rabbit,” Luke sighed. “Not like they’re big enough.”

Din got up from his seated position and held his hand out, gesturing for the pistol. “That does it; you can’t be trusted with hunting tonight. ‘Not big enough,’ my ass.”

“I can do it,” Luke retorted with a pout. “I’ve fired a gun a couple of times before, you know.”

“I’m not doubting your marksmanship. You don’t know what you’re looking for, clearly. Please, hand me the gun,” said Din as he gestured for the weapon again.

Luke handed over the gun handle-first. “You’re talking about a little rabbit, right? They’re like two pounds, Din; that’s maybe one pound of meat.”

No sooner did Din have the gun in his hand than he cocked back the hammer and fired a single shot out into the tall grass. He flipped the pistol around and handed it back over to Luke. “Stay here; I’ll be back.”

Luke watched his guide make his way through the trees and disappear into the grass with an astonished look splashed across his features. Moments later, Din came back to the campsite holding something as large as a barn cat and twice as mangy. Its ears were nearly as long as the animal itself and its spindly limbs dangled out beneath it as if someone designed it to be a mockery of an average rabbit.

“What in the _fuck_ is that? That thing looks like it came straight from Hell.”

“Jackrabbit,” Din replied, handing his prize over to Luke. “That should be about four pounds, give or take. I trust you can at least skin it and gut it?”

“Never thought I would have to skin a demon,” Luke grumbled as he took a knife out from his belt and stretched the animal out over a nearby rock to open it up. “New England never had anything like these. Is every Texan version of a normal animal this ugly?”

Din thought about it as he went back to slicing vegetables. “Well, I guess you haven’t seen the horned frogs yet.”

Luke’s eyes went wide as his knife hovered over the jackrabbit. “’Horned frogs’? Jesus, every creature here really is from Hell.”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, with Din minding the base of the stew and Luke preparing the jackrabbit meat for braising. Once Luke finished breaking down the animal, he dropped the meat into the simmering stew and let it cook until the meat browned and softened in the roux and its own juices. As the stew cooked, the men settled into quiet conversation while the sun sank into the distance and the hush of night closed in around them. The nearly full moon crept up above the horizon with its ghostly light streaking across the treetops and the open prairie beyond the barrier of the grove. Smoke from the fresh fire curled up through the branches, deepening the haze. 

Finally, Din declared the stew to be ready for human consumption and pulled out a set of tin platters and spoons for the two of them. He made quick work of serving out the meal and handing a plate over to Luke; neither man wasted any time tucking into the meal.

“This stew tastes better than it has a right to, being made of demon meat at all,” Luke said around bites of stew. “Were you a cook before you picked up a gun?”

Din cracked a smile at that. “Just used to taking care of myself, is all. So, you’re having me deliver you to a town – where is it on a map, exactly?” 

“Well, here’s the thing – it’s not exactly on a map, yet. They’re still building it up, which is why they hired me to come out there in the first place. There’s some folks already out there occupying the land and there’s some buildings, but it’s maybe two years old.”

Din looked up from the stew and stared at the man across the fire from him in disbelief. He supposed it was his fault that he didn’t bother asking before they left. “Can you tell me whereabouts this mysterious new town may be?”

“I do have a telegraph with some directions and some coordinates,” Luke said as he reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper; he offered it to the bounty hunter. Din took the paper out of his hand and unfolded it. It read:

> Mr. Skywalker,
> 
> Happy to hear of your arrival; expect to see you sometime in October. Mos Pelgo is 50 miles east of El Paso, Texas. Coordinates are as follows: 31° 42' 26.2542", -106° 1' 36.732". Safe travels.
> 
> \- Marshal Vanth

“Well, that’s a hell of a lot better than nothing,” Din scoffed. “Didn’t think to give this to me before?”

Luke polished off the last bit of his own bowl of stew. “I was distracted.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“I suppose you couldn’t,” Luke said, an eyebrow slightly raised. “But I am sorry; you’re right and I should’ve shared that with you earlier. This is definitely one of the many reasons I needed a guide.”

“Were you this forgetful when you were in the Army?” Din asked as he took the lid off the stew pot for seconds. “And do you want some more of this before I get into it?”

Luke laughed as he reached out for the ladle. “Yeah, I was. Luckily for me, I had a squadron staff and non-commissioned officers to keep me on track. Honestly, they’re entirely the reason I’m still alive.”

As Luke poured himself another bowl, Din noticed a deep, gnarled white scar that crawled over the back of his right hand like a dead snake. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and taking the younger man’s hand into his own right hand. Luke let out a subtle gasp in surprise, but allowed Din to take his hand as he pleased.

“God _damn_ , that’s awful,” Din winced in sympathy. He ran his thumb over the scar, marveling in the strange texture of the distorted skin. His eyes ran down from where it began across his knuckles all the way down to the cuff of Luke’s shirt sleeve, where it seemed to continue well past his wrist. Small, indented dots lined both sides of the scar itself – suture marks, Din figured. “How’d you do that?”

“Rebel bastard got me right across my hand with a saber during a charge,” Luke recalled. “He was lucky, but I guess I was luckier that I managed to keep the hand entirely. It hasn’t been quite right since – I can pick things up and hold onto things, but I had to learn how to write with my left hand because my penmanship’s gone completely to hell. Sometimes it hurts again when it rains. I can still hold my own saber, though.”

Din’s mouth set itself in a thin line as he continued to stare down at the old wound. “How did I not notice this before?” he asked, half to himself and half to Luke.

“I had a doctor back home give me this salve to cover it up so I don’t frighten anyone in public,” Luke replied, his tone turning somewhat downcast. His hand tightened in Din’s own. “Once we set out on the road, I started wearing gloves; this may be the first time you would’ve noticed it.”

“You don’t have to hide that from me,” Din said, almost too quickly. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to say it, but he knew that he felt it and Luke had to know. He sensed the wound caused him some shame and embarrassment, but Din only thought more of Luke after seeing such a spectacular scar. “You fought with bravery and honor, and you survived – wear it with pride.” 

Luke looked up at him, blue eyes half-lidded with some emotion Din couldn’t quite parse out. “Thank you, Din. Really.” 

“Don’t thank me for telling the truth,” the older man replied. “Now finish your food – tomorrow’s a long day.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Austin seemed smaller than San Antonio, but it was no less bustling with life and teeming with promise. Luke and Din made their way into the town proper just after ten in the morning and immediately made their way to a nearby stable to refit the horses’ shoes and tack sets. Leaving the horses in the care of the stable master, they made their way into one of the town’s busier squares in order to grab some semblance of a lunch before heading towards an inn for the rest of the day.

A stiff breeze blew through the square as they left the local lunch counter and headed back towards the stables. Din looked off to the south and noticed the edge of rain clouds crawling in their direction and he felt the temperature drop ever so slightly. He undid the sleeves of his shirt from their place at the top of his elbow and rolled them back down over his forearm to keep some of the cold off his skin.

“Shame, that.”

“Did you say something?”

“Um, shame about the rain,” Luke deflected. “Hopefully, it’ll pass over quickly.”

The older man hummed in agreement. “’Spose I’ll have to go and buy some new clothes here. Weather’s starting to turn and I try to pack light, so I didn’t bring much in the way of warm clothing. I’ll go poking around for something later tonight, if you want to stay at the inn.”

Luke looked up at him with a hint of surprise. “And miss out on helping you pick something out? Absolutely not. Hell, we can go look for something now; the horses will be fine at the stables for a bit longer.”

“Luke, you don’t have to do that,” Din sighed. “I won’t take advantage of your kindness.”

“Stop that. Din, it’s getting colder and you deserve a nice jacket. Come on, let’s go find you one!” Luke exclaimed as he took Din’s elbow and pulled him along the crowded streets. 

Eventually, they made their way to a leather shop with various jackets and other accoutrements hung on mannequins in the shop windows. Luke stopped and openly gawked at a particular jacket in the window; he smiled wide and dragged Din into the store. 

“What on Earth are you up to?” asked Din as the two of them reached the sales floor. 

“Mister, can we look at that buckskin jacket with the fringe in the window?” Luke asked the man at the counter, pointedly ignoring Din’s question. “It’s for my friend here – he’s kinda broad, but hopefully it’ll fit fine.”

The shopkeeper simply smiled and walked around the counter to fetch the jacket as asked. As the man pulled the jacket from the mannequin, Luke tugged at Din’s poncho. “You’re going to have to take that off to try the jacket on, Din.”

Din complied, slipping the poncho off his shoulders along with his hat. As he did so, the shopkeeper came around with the jacket and held it open for Din to slip his arms into the sleeves. Luke came up behind him and set the russet Stetson back on his head.

Luke looked him over and whistled low. “That’s a good look on you, Mr. Djarin. Leather suits you very well, but that’s just one man’s opinion. What do you think?”

Din let the shopkeeper guide him towards a large mirror in the middle of the store. He never considered himself a vain man, but he had to admit the jacket did something to his overall appearance that the poncho simply didn’t achieve on its own. The light tan leather jacket fit well in the shoulders and around his chest with a wool lining that immediately trapped heat against his body. He thought the fringe running down the sleeves and across the backs of his shoulders was a little extraneous, but it didn’t detract from the look of the jacket. When he buttoned the jacket closed, it fit snugly around his waist and sat just so above his hips as if it were a bespoke piece. He hated to admit it, but Luke had an eye for these things. 

“We’ll take it,” Din heard Luke whisper to the shopkeeper. He noticed the man scurry off to the sales counter out of the corner of his eye.

Din quickly turned around and caught Luke’s stare, his own brows furrowed in confusion. “Luke, this jacket is too nice. I didn’t even say that I liked it.”

Luke just gave him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to – I don’t think I’ve seen you even look at your reflection in a store window once since we’ve met. Anything that makes you stare at yourself like that is worth its weight in gold.”

Din tried to say something, but any word he tried to choke out died in his mouth before he could start. 

“Let’s go, shall we?”

“But I haven’t – “ 

“Already taken care of! Now let’s go,” Luke said as he shoved Din’s old poncho back into his hands. He took Din by the elbow and guided him back out of the shop’s front door. “And before you say anything – I did it because I wanted to do it, and I could do it, so I did. You would’ve tried to stop me if I told you.”

“But… why?”

Luke stopped manhandling Din and wheeled around on him. “It’s a nice thing to do, that’s why. Yeah, this is a job for you, but you’ve been a good companion on this trip so far and I thought this would be a nice gesture. Something practical and a reminder of the trip. Surely you’re familiar with the concept of giving someone a gift.”

Din only looked at him with a mildly bewildered look on his face.

“Din – please tell me this isn’t the first time someone’s bought something for you.”

“I got a book as a child,” he replied. “That’s… probably about it.” Din thought for a moment that he saw Luke’s bottom lip tremble out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked over to the other man, the moment passed.

“Well, here you go – a gift from a friend,” Luke said wistfully. “Take care of it, alright?”

“Of course. Thank you.”

The pair continued to gather last minute provisions before finally returning to the stables and retrieving Red and Razor. They eventually turned in for the night at a small inn on the outskirts of town, ready to take off for the rest of the adventure.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The next morning, Din and Luke set off out of Austin heading due west towards El Paso – Din estimated that it would take them less than three weeks to get to their destination, depending on the weather and the terrain along the way. Heading out west would mean leaving Hill Country, so he hoped that moving across more even ground would gain them time as they moved across the state. 

Soft sunlight streamed through the rolling clouds as a gentle breeze swayed through the sparse vegetation that dotted the grasslands. The terrain rambled over itself, culminating in hills that seemed to act as a barrier between Luke, Din, and the rest of the world. As the two men continued their ride out west, a metallic glint caught Din’s eye out of Luke’s pack. He turned in his saddle to face Luke on his left and saw what looked to him like a sword handle ever so slightly jutting from its wrapping in Luke’s rolled-up blanket. 

“So, you have a sword,” Din said as a statement rather than a question.

“Oh, this old thing? You wanna see it?” Luke asked as he pulled the entire sword from its makeshift blanket scabbard. He held the sword out to Din, handle first. “Here, please. I insist.”

Din took the sword with both hands in an almost reverential fashion. He flipped it over in his hand and drew the sword out of its actual scabbard, admiring the fine filigree of the hand guard and the weight of the stainless steel. He flipped the blade over and spotted an engraved dedication near the hilt:

 _Lt. Col. Luke Skywalker_  
_From the Dragoons of 2nd_ _Squadron,_ _  
_ _1st Cavalry Regiment, Army of the Shenandoah_

“It’s a beautiful weapon,” Din said with a hushed tone of awe. “Very well made.”

Luke turned to look at him with a slight flush blooming across his nose, reaching his cheeks. He gave Din a shy smile and reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Thank you, Din. It’s my most prized possession, so I’m glad you like it.”

Din shot a look up at him from where he was holding the sword. “’Like it’? It’s a sword anyone would be proud to own.” He carefully slid the sword back into its scabbard and turned it back over in his hands to present the sword back to Luke. “Thank you for letting me hold it.”

He truly meant the compliment – in Din’s line of work, a weapon was as good as salvation. His own weapons were much more functional and far less ornate, but he cherished every single one down to the dagger stuffed in his boot and the straight razor tucked into his belt. 

Luke accepted the sword and tucked it back into the roll of blankets strapped across Red’s back. “Of course. It was a gift – I had to give back the actual saber I used in battle back to the quartermaster when I left, but this does just fine.”

“I hope like hell there’s never an occasion where you’d have to draw it again, but it’s good to know you brought along more than that six-shooter,” Din said with a small smile. “So, were you there all the way through the war?”

“Was I there through the end of the war? Din, I was _at_ the end of the war,” Luke said as he turned in his saddle towards his companion, grin wide on his face. “I was with Sheridan’s Cavalry Corps at Appomattox.”

Din hummed in response. “I suppose that was very exciting.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so drunk in my life as I was on the night Lee surrendered,” Luke laughed. “I never want to be that drunk again, if I’m honest. I think it took a week to recover.”

It was Din’s turn to laugh softly. “And then you left the Army after that?”

“The war was over and I had no use for my commission,” Luke shrugged as he readjusted himself in his saddle. “I believed in the cause that I fought for, and I saw the job through. Got a college education out of the deal, too. I wasn’t interested in sticking around for what happened after that.”

“I can respect that.”

Luke paused for a moment. “Now, I don’t know how to ask this without being insensitive, but…”

“You’re going to ask if I participated in the war for Texas,” Din cut in. “And the answer is no. I understand why you’d ask, but absolutely not. I’d sooner shoot myself in the knee than help those bastards in any way, shape, or form.”

The younger man reached out and touched Din’s shoulder gently. Concern marred the gentle lines of his face. “I’m sorry; I really didn’t mean to insult you or your honor. I didn’t take you as someone who would’ve ever done anything of the sort, honestly – I’m just clumsy and I put my foot in my mouth all too often. Still friends?”

“No offense meant, none taken,” Din sighed, tension visibly loosening from his shoulders. “I understand why a Union war hero would hesitate to travel with someone that perhaps didn’t see things eye to eye.”

“Still, I need to learn not to be so stupid about these things,” Luke sniffed, an easy smile replacing his worried expression. “What was it like, then? Being in Texas during those years, I mean.”

“I hated _everything_ about them. During the occupation, I stayed at the abbey that raised me to protect it and the children from those thieving assholes. I was the only one that would leave the abbey for things we needed so they couldn’t trace all of us back there.” Din’s fingers tightened around Razor’s reins so hard the leather creaked under the pressure. 

“I guess it didn’t occur to me that the Confederacy taking over Texas would be an occupation for those that weren’t on board,” Luke said. “One man’s freedom fighter is another man’s terrorist is another man’s oppressor. Could hardly call those bastards human.”

“They hung people that wanted to stay in the Union, you know. It was a message to everyone that hated the Confederacy that they’d better stay in line if they knew what was good for them. They even chased out the governor for openly disagreeing with the Confederacy,” Din recalled as he stared out over the horizon at a distant memory. “It’s hard to describe what living as both a hunter and prey is like.”

“I can’t imagine. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be – besides, you helped to take the bastards out. You did enough.”

Luke only hummed in agreement as they continued their journey in relative silence. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Din’s nerves were on high alert as the orange glow of the full moon crested above the hills and the sun’s last vestiges of light faded into twilight. This was the night he hated the most – most full moons, he stayed up all night with his finger on the trigger of his rifle and his back up against a tree. He carried scars across his arms and one on his chest from the three times he didn’t regret that decision. 

“We need to sleep in shifts tonight,” Din stated as he nestled himself against the side of a hill. He chose their campsite so any predator – human or otherwise – would have to either come up over the steep hill or come directly towards his line of sight. “It’s never good to be out underneath a full moon, but if at least one of us is awake, we should get through tonight just fine.”

Luke gave him a quick nod as he set his sleep mat out. “I’m assuming you’ll take the first shift?”

“Naturally.”

As the night crawled on, the orange of the harvest moon faded into a brilliant white that bathed the world around them in a cold light. Only the brightest stars blazed above them, the rest drowned out in the moon’s silver embrace. Only the faintest hint of a cloud skirted across the face of the moon, but it left as quickly as it appeared. The early September wind combed the grass that stretched out forever, but the hills protected them from most of it. Din continued to stare out into the wilderness with Luke within arm’s reach in case something happened. 

“I can’t sleep,” Luke interrupted from his mat. “How are you doing?”

Din arched a single eyebrow in his direction and huffed a small laugh. “Just alert, is all. What’s on your mind?”

“I guess I feel stupid. I understand that all these constellations have names, but I’ll be honest – I’ve never once sat down and memorized them,” Luke sighed. “I don’t even know which star’s supposed to be the North Star.”

“That’s Orion the Hunter up there,” Din said, pointing up at the constellation directly up ahead. “You can see him year-round. Over there is Cassiopeia – that’s the shape that looks like a ‘W’.”

Luke turned on his camp roll and faced Din with his head sitting in his hand. “Very impressive. I have no idea if you’re telling me the truth, but you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

Din huffed a small laugh. “Well, I use them to navigate at night – it helps to know the names of the stars you’re using to find your way around. Now, if you follow the line from the top of the Big Dipper up – that’s the North Star.”

“And do these names have stories behind them?”

“I remember some of them. The Mother Superior of the abbey where I grew up insisted that we knew all the constellations and the Greek myths. ‘Ladies and gentlemen of good breeding read Homer,’ she said.”

“I suppose she’s not wrong,” Luke said with a smile. “Then tell me a story – whatever one you like the best.”

“Oh, do you need a bedtime story to go to sleep, now? You’re about as bad as the children at the abbey,” Din grumbled. 

“Din, you are so _mean_ ,” the younger man said with a chuckle behind his hand. “I didn’t think you had it in you to be so cruel. I think, in order to make it up to me, you definitely have to tell me a story.”

“Cassiopeia was a vicious queen,” Din started, “that told the God of the Sea that her daughter Andromeda was more beautiful than any of his daughters. As punishment, Poseidon threw Cassiopeia into the sky to revolve around the North Pole forever. Andromeda, because of her mother’s bragging, found herself chained to a rock and offered up as a meal for a sea monster for her trouble.”

“Why on Earth would he do that?” Luke laughed, a little incredulous. “That sounds so cruel, especially when the princess did nothing wrong.”

“The gods of Greece are strange that way,” Din replied. “They’re not perfect – they have desires and flaws like us. They get jealous, they fall in love, and they go to war with one another; it’s like they have all our problems, but they can do something about them. It’s what makes ‘em interesting.”

“So, what happens to Andromeda? Does she escape?” Luke sat up a little more and leaned in.

“Well, a hero comes and rescues her from the rock and slays the monster. He used all his cunning, his skills, his experience to fight the thing. The gods even granted him a sword, a shield, and sandals that allowed him to fly. He’s actually just to the southwest of Cassiopeia,” Din said as he pointed in the general area in the sky. “Andromeda’s right next to him.”

Luke smiled wide. “And then what happened? The story can’t end there.”

“Well, the hero, Perseus, takes the maiden away from her dreadful fate and marries her. They lived happily ever after as a king and queen. Once they lived out their natural lives, the gods put them in the sky to remember their story and as atonement for Andromeda’s suffering.” Din said. “One of the few Greek stories that has a happy ending.”

Luke laid back on his roll and sighed deeply. “How romantic,” he said. “What’s better than rescuing a princess, falling in love, and living happily ever after?”

“Well, not having to slay a sea monster, for one,” Din said. 

The younger man shot him a withering glance. “So, I take it you’re not one for romance?”

“Haven’t thought about it much. You should think about going to sleep, though – your shift’s fast approaching and I need you on your toes. Fatigue and the elements ain’t a good mix,” Din scoffed. 

Luke pulled his blanket over his frame and settled into his mat. “Alright, alright. Good night, Din. I’ll see you at midnight.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Say, do you think someday people will fly around in the stars? Like in that Jules Verne novel?”

“Go to _sleep_ already,” Din sighed. “Besides, that sounds silly. Who ever heard of flying around in space?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for reading! By the way, if there is ever something I write about that you don't feel that I treated with the gravity or sensitivity it requires, please let me know; I'll consider it a favor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please yell at me to continue writing this either here or at my tumblr @leorizanzel.
> 
> The Bible quote is Isaiah 30:21, by the way.


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